FIGHTING EVIL
Whenever I hear a biblical story about exorcism, I can't help thinking about my mother. I know demonic possession is not the same thing as paranoid schizophrenia, but growing up it was hard to see the difference.
My mother surrendered me to foster care at the age of five months. When I turned one, her mother, my maternal grandmother, brought me to her home. She thought, bless her heart, that this was a temporary solution, until my mother "got back on her feet." My mother re-joined the household when I was five years old, and began her inexorable downward slide.
My grandparents tried to get her care. She was institutionalized at least twice; always coming home much better. Then always resuming that downward slide. She wouldn't take her prescribed medications, and my grandparents could not or would not force her.
No, my mother did not have supernatural strength, nor could she speak rationally, as classic biblical demons do. But she frightened me. I always felt her as a threat to our well-being as a family, possibly even to our survival. She seemed to me like a coiled spring, ready to strike.
When my grandfather suddenly died of a heart attack, I stayed home for college, which had not been my plan. My mother grew steadily worse, and I was tired from being awakened in the middle of the night with her curses and screaming.
At that point I took authority, whether I should have or not, and gave my grandmother an ultimatum: "get her out of this house or I'll go live in the dorm." I could not continue to live constantly subjected to her insanity.
Grandma, with my aunt's help, got her committed once again, though she was soon released. My grandmother financed her living in rental apartments until her death of an apparent adrenalin overdose -- she was an extreme asthmatic -- at the age of 53.
I was young then and fighting to have a life: I wanted to finish college, to have boyfriends, to make a decent life for myself. But I can't help wondering: what would I do now?
I think it would be more like Jesus' response, not to distance the sufferer but to challenge the "demons." I would advocate for more treatment and ongoing medication. I would try to see, as Jesus did with the man with an "unclean spirit," my mother's underlying humanity.
Mark tells today's story as Jesus' first public act. At this point, Jesus has been baptized by John, emerged from temptation by Satan, and called his first disciples. Now he is preaching in his adopted home town, Capernaum, and encounters a man with "an unclean spirit."
It's fascinating that this unclean spirit or demon recognizes Jesus and the role he is destined to play, saying: "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God."
Jesus, not eager to be pigeon-holed as a wonder-worker responds: "Be silent, and come out of him!"
The force of Jesus' holiness outweighs the evil. The man is restored to health and wholeness, and everyone in the synagogue is amazed.
Mark introduces this first public act as a sign of Jesus' authority. He doesn't just talk about making things better... Jesus makes things better. He makes things happen, not to build a reputation -- remember, he swears his followers to silence - Jesus makes real-world things better for the sick, the poor, the sinner, the outcast, anyone who needs help. In Mark's next chapter Jesus will say:
"Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have come not to call the righteous, but sinners."
Do we do the same? Do we look for the humanity beneath the illness or the sins?
How do we treat people with mental illness? Do we distance them, hide them away - as I did with my mother -- or do we provide for them and interact with them?
Recently I've been meeting with a couple of mentally-disadvantaged people who want to make a lifelong commitment to each other. It's amazing how absolutely honest they are about their issues... and how absolutely committed to each other in their love. They are an inspiration to me. Talking with them and encouraging them, maybe I'm redeeming some of my past behavior toward my mother.
There are other evils in the world, staring us in the face: racism; income inequality;
education inequality. All of us are faced with the decision whether to simply talk about them (like the Pharisees and Scribes) or to actually DO something about them (like Jesus).
Becoming activists -- which means doing things -- involves risk. I'll upset the status quo. Friends may not understand. They may "unfriend" me. But doing nothing means allowing those evil, life-threatening, life-denying forces their full destructive power.
Healing that demon-possessed man in the synagogue wasn't the end of the story. Not only was Jesus claiming his authority... he was claiming the authority for all of us to fight evil wherever and however we find it.
Jesus' encounter with the demon reflects the reality that we live, on this earth, in a contested space. There are negative powers that want to take away the good we do. We must never, ever, surrender to them.
Instead, like Jesus, who has given us authority, we must first say "Be silent!" And then invest our energy, time and money to fight anything that threatens the humanity or the well-being of any of God's children, in our neighborhoods and around the world.
I know now that my mother was not evil. She was sick. She needed help that science at that time and her family could not give.
I also know that evil exists, inciting people to commit acts of hidden cruelty and sometimes brazen cruelty. Evil sometimes invites us simply to look the other way.
There are "demons" roaming the world. They sometimes appear in our workplaces and even in our own homes. But we have God-given authority to fight them, to expel them and make this world more like God created it to be.
May you and I have the courage and strength to do so.